


Abandoned

by Thunder_the_Wolf



Series: Forever [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angels and Demons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2019-10-10 07:50:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17421872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thunder_the_Wolf/pseuds/Thunder_the_Wolf
Summary: Steve comes back from a mission to find that his... crush, for lack of a better word, is supposedly dead. But he can't be. Guardians don't die, especially not from something so ridiculously human. And Tony Stark is far from human. AU where Steve Rogers has always been Captain America, but Tony Stark hasn't always been Tony Stark. Once, he was an orphan in the Depression who looked after Steve and Bucky. Before that, he was a demon who clawed his way up to Heaven and begged for a second chance.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a 2012 AU that ignores everything past the first Avengers movie because that's just what we do around here. And it might even reshape some of that.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was probably the most normal he felt in a while, and given Tony's life, that was terrifying. Meanwhile, Steve isn't so lucky.

_**Tony** _

He'd gotten a call from the Bomb Squad, of all people, asking him to come in. Apparently, someone took a bomb and shanghaied it to death, and that catastrophe was now sitting under a school bus, waiting for a child to get up so it could release its fury. The Squad had never actually seen this kind of thing, and would you be willing to consult with our man on the ground? Turns out that no, he can't because explanation takes more time and leads to more mistakes so it's boots on the ground for him. 

He had seen this type of shoddy workmanship before, but not to this level. This wasn't Hammer's bomb in the strictest sense of the word, because someone had reworked it so finely that even an expert would have trouble recognizing it. Fortunately for the situation at hand, Tony was a genius who noted competition, even when they didn't deserve it. He knew what this version was supposed to look like. He also knew that they were about to be majorly screwed over. Most of all, he knew that he wasn't letting these kids die.

"Off! Now!" He barked to the driver. Kids scrambled out through both entrances, lucky that someone had been smart enough to open them previously. The bus was mostly cleared, but someone cried out and time was almost up. Tony reached up and snatched the young boy by his collar, smothering him with the suit before-.

The fire was all he saw when he blacked out, heat scorching him from the outside in.

They got out alive. At least... most of them did. He hoped the suit was enough to protect the straggler. They didn't deserve to burn as he had.

* * *

  
_**Steve**_

The team had gotten through their mission rather well, all things considered, but while Rhodes was absolutely a genius, he wasn't Tony. War Machine wasn't Iron Man, and Steve found himself missing his friend's particular brand of chatter on the comms. He had to focus, though. There were giant roaches that needed to be dealt with and like normal roaches, they refused to die.

Thor swooped in towards the end, fresh back from a trip to Asgard, and roasted them ten-fold. They were already making headway but with Thor's help, the battle was pretty much over.

The Avengers headed back to the Tower practically unhindered, which was strange. Usually, there was some mob of reporters trying to get info on the latest Superhero antics, and the few that appeared seemed far too distracted to ask any questions. Steve couldn't say he was too bothered by it. Surely whatever else was going on had to be big, for the city to ignore giant roaches clomping through the streets.

“Avengers, if you'll do me the pleasure of disregarding the news, they all seem to be in error.”

JARVIS sounded… different somehow. And he had to be filtering through Colonel Rhodes’ helmet because he wasn't installed in the watch Tony had given Steve. While it would be just like his friend to have JARVIS keep an eye on him, they'd talked about it. Steve wanted to get out on his own more, discover the world as it came. He couldn't do that if JARVIS was able and willing to shape his point of view.

But that didn't matter now. What mattered is that JARVIS was telling him to ignore the news? What-?

An antique shop they passed by had the television on and seemed content to ignore JARVIS’ worries. Steve turned when he heard a string of words that he'd never thought possible.

“And we're back on the air, continuing the breaking news story of today's bombing incident, which tragically claimed the lives of twelve-year-old Jason Mallard and former CEO of Stark Industries, Anthony Stark.”

“No.” Steve muttered. “No way.”

“Steve-.” Clint started to speak as if cajoling a wounded animal to him.

“No.” Steve growled, irritated. “JARVIS is right. The news is lying.”

“Every single station?” Bruce prompted gently. “Because they're all playing out the exact same thing.”

“Then they're all wrong!” Steve scoffed. “That incident probably did happen today, and he likely was called to help deal with it, but he's not-! He's not. I'll know when he's dead.”

“I know this isn't easy to hear-.”

“He's. Not. _Dead_.” Steve hissed through gritted teeth. “Make of all this what you will, but I'm going home.”

With those words, Steve sped off in another direction.

“Wait a minute, how do you know if your apartment is still standing?!” Clint demanded.

“Neighbors told me!” Steve called back.

* * *

  
It was sunset when he got off the elevator. He found a number of baked goods and condolence cards by his front door when he first walked in. Someone must have used the extra key, but nothing else was out of place from what he could see. Except that Tony wasn't there. And Steve hadn't heard from him all day. He was usually here by now because three times a week they would go down to a pizza parlor not far from Stark Tower and help with crowd control.

_He never did say whether he'd make it back._

Steve shook himself out and jolted when he realized that someone was coming in behind him.

“Oh, Steve…”

Clara Masters was a PTA mom in every sense of the word. She had two kids and her ex-husband's brother to get along with, and some days he wondered how she did it all. Now, she stood in front of his door with sympathy shining through her eyes.

“You speak so well of him, I almost thought he was going to make it out anyway. I mean, it's Iron Man, right?” She chuckled waterily.

“Rule number one in my line of work, Clara, it ain't over 'til someone finds a body.”

Clara dipped her head and her breath caught in her throat.

“I hope they don't. God, I really do. If only for your sake.”

“Much appreciated.” Steve murmured, accepting the hug she was more than willing to give. “How would you, Max, Jake, and Amber like to help me get through these baskets?”

“I’m sure we'd love to have you, Mr. Rogers, but if we go home with rotten teeth, you better pay our dentist.” Clara snorted.

“Will do.” He chuckled.

Warmth flowed through him when her family appeared as solemn as you please.

“I bet there's so much food here I can't eat it myself.” Steve offered when the other three appeared at his door. “But I think that's the point. So if you all can help an old man out, dinner's on me.”

“Can we go by that pizza place you like so much?” Jake blurted out.

Clara sucked a harsh breath through her teeth, knowing why that particular place had a spot in his heart.

“Absolutely!” Steve crowed. “In fact, I was going to head down there once I got the house in order. Think you're up for Shelter Night?”

Clara and Max had accompanied Steve on more than one Shelter Night, which Max thoroughly enjoyed. The kids were close to double digits, and the crowd down by Angelo's knew to be the respectable sort at risk of getting thrown out, so with their parents and Captain America, going anywhere was bound to be a blast.

“Please, can we go?” Jake asked excitedly, hopping from foot to foot and tugging at Max's sleeve. “I'll do everything you say no question for a week!”

“Like you would anyway.” Max snorted, ruffling the boy's hair. Steve's coughed laughter was cut off by a ringtone. He fished his phone from one of many pockets and slid the _Talk icon_.

“Rogers.” He growled sharply. A few heartbeats passed and “Sorry, Pepper, didn't recognize the number.”

“ _That's quite alright, Steve. I don't suppose you've heard anything?_ ”

“Afraid not.” Steve groused. “Which is weird, but you know how he gets sometimes. Likely just laying low.”

“ _He's got a few days before we start to get second looks and subtle nudges about a death certificate_.” Pepper groused.

“Afghanistan was one thing, but this…” Steve faltered. “I really hope you're right.”

“ _I am_ .” The redhead insisted. “ _It ain't over till someone finds a body_.” She recited.

“Yeah, I… yeah. You know him best.”

“ _I’ll be over later if you like._ ”

“Actually, Clara and her family want to come to Shelter Night with me.”

“ _Sounds like a plan. See you in a few hours?_ ”

“Yeah, see you then.”

The call ended and Steve turned back to his neighbors.

“Shall we get started?” He invited.

“So it's not just you.” Max murmured sympathetically. “You _and_ Potts, probably Rhodes, we all know they went to college together… is it just you three who have that much faith in him? Is the whole world gonna be played for a fool when Tony Stark shows up alive and well tomorrow morning?”

“I wouldn't say played for a fool… if he were anyone else, I'd believe it too.” Steve admitted heavily.

“You keep that faith, then.” Max warned. “Sounds like you'll need it.”

Amber reached for the first batch of condolence gifts.

“Looks like someone's making sure you don't have to cook for the rest of the year.” She snorted. And that was as good a reason to get to work as any.

 

* * *

Angelo was happy for the help. Customers flooded in once word got around that Tony liked this place. Not that Angelo and his daughter ever advertised that. 

“Steve…” Ariana looked about as worn down and sad as he felt, and that was never a good thing.

“Give it a bit.” Steve insisted.

“Alright.” She murmured, eyes bright with pain and shining with tears. “If you were anyone else I'd call you crazy. Papa needs help in the back.”

“Max, Clara, think you wouldn't mind helping Angelo bring out pizzas in the back? He's bound to be overworking himself.”

“Of course.” Max nodded instantly and Clara turned to her kids.

“Don't you give these two any trouble, you hear?” She ordered sharply before following her brother-in-law.

“What are we gonna do, Steve?” Amber wondered.

“When your mom and them bring out pizzas, you're going to get some of those folded cards and label them. Every ingredient for each pizza is on the menu, but this will be buffet-style so people won't have time to read everything.”

“So we take the cards, write down all the ingredients for one pizza  in one card, and then put it in front of a platter?”

“Yep.”

“Okay, we can do that. C'mon, Jake

We've got to get your writing skills up to snuff before anything else.” Amber joked.

“Oh my God, Berry! You can't say that in front of Captain America! You're the worst sister ever.”

“I'm sure.” Amber deadpanned as they sat across from each other, a stack of index cards between them. Steve took up a post by the door. Nobody got turned away on Shelter Night unless they started trouble because even the folks who looked like they didn't belong usually had a reason to be there.

Ariana would be seating anyone who chose to stay. Steve watched as she flitted around the room, showing this couple to some chairs at the very center and that family to a booth with a high chair.

“She always looks hot like that.” An unwelcome purr drifted to his ears.

A quick glance told Steve that the ex-boyfriend Ari warned him about lounged by the entrance, watching everyone with a hungry gaze. A group of teens flooded in excitedly and the man, Brock, saw his chance. He was frozen before he could even move. Steve rooted him into place with severe pressure on his arm.

“You know who I am, you know what I've lost. You know not to test me on a _good_ day.” Steve growled. “This is not a good day.”

The boy stumbled away from the shop nursing a possibly broken arm.

“Thank you.” Ari mumbled as she seated the next set of customers. Steve nodded and relaxed into the door frame. If the kid knew what was good for him, he wouldn't come back.

“One at a time, please!” Ari called to those who were participating in Shelter Night. “And do mind our helpers.”

The night passed in what Steve wished he could call a dull haze, but he was far too alert for that. Occasionally he and Max switched places. Max would stand at the door and Steve would help bring out pies or seat people or replace smudged ingredient cards.

“Get rest, my boy.” A regular of Shelter Night urged. “You have served us well enough today. You cannot do so forever.”

Steve knew she wasn't just talking about the veggie pie he'd just replaced.

“I won't be sleeping.” He admitted. “So I might as well be useful.”

The older woman clicked her tongue sadly and took two slices of cheese.

“Perhaps your boy will hear our prayers tonight. He always seems to recover better that way.”

“Perhaps.” Steve offered, perplexed.

She couldn't know just how right she was.

* * *

Steve trudged to his apartment to find that Pepper, Rhodes, and Hogan were already there. He and Angelo had seen the Masters off about an hour ago with as much pizza as they could each carry. Angelo had insisted on doing the same for him, so he stumbled into his apartment under the burden of ten whole pies.

“Hope nobody ate.” He scoffed a greeting.

“Did you?” Pepper reproached sharply.

“I'm fine.”

“Bullshit.” Pepper insisted. “You fought giant roaches, Steve. And then you cleaned up your house and went to help Angelo with the night rush. Eat.” She ordered.

“You haven't been in charge since 1938.” Steve grumbled, annoyed. Pepper raised an eyebrow and flashed the SI badge that hung around her neck.

“Of me.” He chuckled bitterly. “And I doubt I can eat ten pies by myself.”

“Eat _something_.” Pepper insisted. Steve rolled his eyes and popped open a box. Olives.

“Any word?”

“Not yet.” She offered quietly. “I'd know if he were gone for good. He's not.”

“But you can't tell where he is either.”

“He doesn't want me to know then I won't.”

“You say that so easily.” Steve mumbled, ripping apart his third slice.

“Not much to be done.” Pepper offered lightly. “Waiting is the bane of human existence.”

“Got that right.” Steve groused. “Do you two ever speak?” He scoffed playfully.

“Still trying to wrap my head around the whole coming back to life thing.” Hogan admitted. “Also you say my wife has been around since 1938-.”

“Think of it as a past life.” Steve offered. “That's what it was. For her, at least.”

Pepper snorted at his bitter tone.

“That's what it was for Anthony as well, but I'll let him tell that tale.”

“If he ever comes back.” Rhodes scowled.

“He has to.” Steve snapped.

“Poor boy.” Pepper drawled. “At least this one has the option of walking away.” She said, gesture to Hogan. He grumbled something along the lines of “why would I want to?” Before taking a slice of veggie pizza for himself.

Steve finished off his current slice, the end slice of three different pies, and started to straighten up.

“Sleep.” Rhodes ordered, moving to stop him. “We can handle this.”

Steve stared at the three of them. He knew full well that Pepper would drag him to bed if he didn't go himself. So he shuffled to his room and went through the motions. Close the door, walk, shower, walk, change, walk, bed. Steve hoped he wouldn't dream. He didn't think he could bear it.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Steve** _

He awoke to red eyes gleaming from a corner of his room. Tony did that, had red eyes. Often he was able to make them appear brown. Or wear contacts. But this wasn't Tony. Couldn't be. He'd know if it was, would have felt it, would have said something.

So he snorts and turns over. 

“If you're gonna kill me, try not to be a dick about it.” Steve mumbled before closing his eyes. The fact that he drifted off without pain went unnoticed. 

* * *

He woke up again and the red eyes were gone. Either someone was stalking him or Tony was back and not reaching out. Whatever the reason, he had to find out the truth. So he got up, dressed, and was out the door by six in the morning. 

* * *

Pepper was not in her office today, according to Hogan. She wanted him to come by the Tower. The last time he'd been to any of Stark's properties was a few weeks ago. He'd gone to the Mansion to root out his few personal effects from Howard's rather creepy Captain America collection. The man had gotten some of everything, he recalled. 

There was no way he was getting anywhere near Stark Tower without coffee, so he stood in line at the bakery two blocks down from his place. The news was still talking about the bombing and subsequent death of Tony Stark, but new developments mean they took a different approach. The boy who'd been with him when the bomb went off was alive and as unscathed as he could be. There was still no word on the hero himself, but he'd actually managed to save every last child on that bus. It was truly a miracle.

“You have a funny way of knowing him, Cap.” The barista offered sadly. “Tell you the truth, I have to keep reminding myself that it’s rare for you to give up on people, and he'd be the absolute last.” 

Steve tilted his head, conflicted, before smiling and taking his fare. 

* * *

“I still haven't heard from him.” 

Pepper was flying through a stack of paperwork, scanning pages at the speed of light. Papers scattered everywhere, and even if Steve wanted to help he wouldn't know where to start. 

“He would tell me if he wasn't coming back.” She insisted. “He can't just fuck off to nowhere without so much as a second thought, the-! Shit. I'm sorry, Steve. He  _ wouldn't _ just leave you.”

“It's alright.” Steve muttered bitterly. “You're not wrong to be concerned. He is taking a while. Even if he was recovering, he usually says  _ something… _ I don't think I've ever felt so empty.” 

“He'll be back, if only for you.” Pepper assured him. 

“Got you some coffee.” 

“You must be heaven-sent.” Pepper purred suddenly, snatching the bag from him and patting the side of his face. She rifled through it eagerly and dumped in a hefty amount of cream and sugar before pulling the carton full of coffee towards her and filling up her cup. 

By the time Steve was jerked from his thoughts, she had downed a cup and a half and munched on the first of several bagels. 

“Go home, Steve. I'll be fine here. Happy is stopping by later on. Rhodey should see you around at some point.”

Steve stood there, eyes closed as he breathed in the aura of the room. 

“Okay.” He said. “Okay.” 

* * *

He doesn't go home. Instead, he lets his feet guide him to his favorite place in the Tower. Tony's landing pad gave a perfect view of the city below, and he could often be found sketching what he saw that particular day. 

He settled down not too close to the edge but good enough to see what was happening below. This thing was reinforced well enough. Had to be, to take a rough landing from the Iron Man suit. That thing was heavy and Steve wouldn’t even imagine Tony lifting it by himself. He could, Angelic strength aside, but Steve couldn’t afford to go there without eventually drifting off to… other things. Things they’d yet to discuss but that Tony would not be happy to hear. 

Steve shook himself out and sat back against the railing that ran on either side of the walkway. There was no point dwelling on fantasies. 

* * *

  
_  
The first thing he recognizes when he finds awareness is that he’s not where he was. Instead of feeling a breeze on an SI balcony he stands in a tower of a different kind. There is a sinister air to this place, and Steve isn’t quite in the mood to fight demons.  _

_ A quick sniff and his gaze clearing reveals that it’s food burning, not brimstone.  _

_ Panic races through him as he swats at the stove with a towel in a desperate attempt to fan out the smoke.  _

Neil would be home soon and if he caught wind of this...

_ These weren't his thoughts, he knew. The woman attempting to save her dinner was someone who would need him very soon… Anticipation flooded through his veins as the front door opened. He turned to find a figure looming in the doorway. Hazel eyes glared at him, and disappointment filled him instantly.  _

"I see I'll have to order takeout. Again."  _ The man sneered.  _ "I guess didn't marry you for your skills."

_ Steve wanted to yell, curse and scream and claw the man's eyes out, but he froze, stone-cold as the man observed the scene before him. _

__ "Neil, I-!" _ The woman whispered frantically.  _

"Save it, Emma. You can't cook, you can't clean… what can you do? Other than being a waste of life?" 

"Neil-!" _The woman,_ _Emma, choked out._

"I was going to give you one more chance but this truly is the last straw." 

_ Neil sauntered forward with a lazy smirk. Steve lunged to one side but stumbled into the nearby wall.  _

"Hold still, precious, it'll all be over soon." 

_ Steve whimpered as he felt hands curl around his throat.  _

**It's okay, Emma!** He struggled to clear his thoughts as his world went black.  **I'll find you!** __

* * *

Steve lurched to one side and found himself grasping at nothing. Nausea roiled through him, the kind that happens when one fell very sharply and quickly, often with no hope of landing. Prying open his eyes, he noticed that wasn't quite true. 

"You shouldn’t be up this high.” Rhodey scolded lightly, knowing exactly why Steve came up to this point. He did a double-take upon realizing that Steve was panting heavily and limp in his arms. “Are you alright?” 

“Vision.” Steve growled. “Emma Farley and Neil Palston are not having a good day.” 

“Know where they are?” 

“Nope, but their apartment is on fire and it wasn’t far from here. I’d be knocked out if it was.” 

“Okay, Emma Farley and Neil Palson. Who’s in danger?” 

“Farley.” 

“Got it. You coming?” 

“Yeah.” Steve exhaled roughly. “Just gimme a minute.” 


End file.
